I Can't Put It Into Words
by Amana
Summary: A novelisation, as it were, of to Final Fantasy VIII, looking at the character and their motives. First in a series.


_Irvine Kinneas opened a bleary eye as he stirred, shaken in his bed as the tawny-haired girl kneeled besides him. "Irvy!" she whispered, urgency in her voice as she prodded his arm. "Irvy! Wake up!"_

_Now his other dark eye opened, vision focusing on his best friend. "What is it, Sephie?" He sat up in bed, resting his back against the two thin pillows he had and moving over to give her some space. "Did you have another bad dream?"_

_Head turned down, she nodded, her slight frame shivering in the cold of night. "It was 'bout mummy 'n' daddy 'gain..." And then Irvine could see she wasn't shivering with the cold but shaking with fear, wet tears glistening on her eyelashes. "I saw the soldiers 'gain." Her pale face turned towards Irvine again, fist at an eye wiping away tears. "I was so scared, Irvy!"_

_He knew what he meant. The soldiers had come for all of them, back then. "It's okay, Sephie. They're not here anymore." He bundled the girl into his arm and held her tightly as she sobbed into his chest, tears soaking his oversized t-shirt as she sniffed loudly. "You wanna sleep in my bed? I'll look after you." He felt her nod even as she cried, and he shifted to let go of her, passing her the blanket and letting her hug and cry into that instead. He rearranged the pillow to let her have one, and pulled her back down to the bed. "C'mon Sephie. Go to sleep. I'll be here in case the dreams come back"Reluctantly she lay down on the bed next to him, and he covered them both with the blanket he had, big enough to cover everyone if he wanted. He hugged her under the covers, keeping her safe and warm as she drifted back off to sleep._

And then Irvine Kinneas really woke up, long auburn hair messed crazily on the pillow. It was months since he'd dreamt about Selphie, replaying their time together in his head at night. Nor had visions of his other friends passed through his mind recently. But every time they did, they brought with them fresh heartache as he gathered strength to forget them, move on. They could be anywhere right now. They could have families. They could be in Garden, like him. They could be dead. How old was he when he left the Orphanage?

_No point worrying about that now, Kinneas,_ he thought to himself as he peered through the blind at the world outside. _It's morning. Perfect time for practise._ Groaning, he stretched his long limbs on the bed, scratching at the hair dusted over his torso. He barely ever woke up at this time in the morning, but right now he needed anything over than the image of his little Sephie crying in the night. Shrugging on some clothes, he picked up his rifle and left.

"What the hell are you doing, Almasy?"  
Training Centre, Balamb Garden. Two rivals were battling it out, fighting to get out. Previously just a training exercise, the tall, handsome blond boy had taken the practise to the limits, relentlessly attacking his pale classmate until he, too, had to step up the pace. Now they ran at each other, gunblades shining under the pale, fluorescent lights of the Centre.

"C'mon, Squall!" Seifer parried a slash from his sparring partner, before hitting back out with his own blade. "Life ain't a bowl of candy. When you go out an' face them Galbadian bastards, they're not gonna show you mercy!" He swiped at Squall, an uppercut with the gunblade that slid against the other's weapon, making sparks fly in the thick air. The blades jarred until Squall wrenched his down by the handle, attempting to slash at Seifer, get the other boy away from him. Bad move. Seifer's gunblade slipped up, the tip running over Squall's forehead and leaving an ugly gash. "You're gonna get more of those, Leonhart," he cawed, aiming again for another slash at the boy. "You're lucky that was just your pretty face"  
Only then did Squall noticed the blood spilling onto the ground, soaking into the dusty floor. It was a deep cut, mirroring the one on Seifer's own face almost perfectly. "That's against the rules, Seifer," Squall growled, deep in his throat. He ran back at the tall boy, gunblade held aloft, ready to hurt the blond back. Something stirred in his mind, reminding him why he hated Almasy. That stupid, arrogant prick. Picking on him and the others like he was in charge. Making it so unbearable that they left. He hacked left and right at the bastard, wanting to ruin him, wanting to...

Hold up.

_The others?_  
Since when has there been anyone but himself?

His frantic slashing slowed, an image of the girl in his mind. Tall, smiling, beautiful - even at that age. _But that's..._

But who it was, he never remembered. Seifer took the moment to smack his gunblade into the back of his head, felling Squall to the floor stained with his own blood.

"Fujin, Raijin... get this poor bastard to the Infirmary." Long white trencher trailing behind him, he stalked out of the Centre, satisfied. _That'll do for now_.

Out of the shadows stepped his sidekicks. The silver-haired girl raised an eyebrow and looked over at her thundering partner.

"I don't think Seifer's quite himself," she said quietly, her voice devoid of the usual snap she displayed for Seifer and strangers.

Raijin crouched over Squall's prone body, moving the dark hair aside to examine the neat wound on his forehead. "He's not been the same since he had that dream"  
"And he keeps having visions of her. They keep coming to him.I'm scared for him, Rai"  
He nodded grimly, looking up at her. "He keeps thinkin' of Rinoa"  
"Sometimes. But usually, it's the Sorceress." She turned away, her small body framed by the light coming from the "secret area". Raijin stood, enveloping her with his arms as she broke down. "Rai, it's only a matter of time before he goes completely!"

He breathed in the scent of her silvery hair, her one eye shedding a tear. "We're gonna have to look after him, Fu. There's gonna be a time when he don't know what's right an' what's wrong. That's the time he'll need us most, y'know?"

She broke away from him again, her body stiff and awkward; too aware of him, of everything. "We gotta get him in."

Silently, they fell back into the pretence they always held up. Making like they barely knew each other. Just members of the Disciplinary Commitee. Not so weak as to need each other after Seifer acted irresponsibly and left them to clean up. They dragged Squall out to the care of Dr. Kadowaki. Nothing to see here.

_fin_


End file.
